


Ham Cafe

by cloverlady



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Brotherly Love, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Kinda, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole, but he's only in this for a little bit, it gets a bit dicey in the middle but don't worry, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 20:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverlady/pseuds/cloverlady
Summary: In the middle of a zombie apocalypse, Sans dreams of opening a cafe.





	Ham Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> The long awaited (not really) Ham Cafe fic!  
> If you don't know what this is, it's a "fix-it" ending fic for the Halloween Arc of https://villainpapyrus.tumblr.com/. If you don't know what that is... what are you DOING?! It's a good blog, check it out if you love Papyrus being salty.  
> Also, Trajan=Papyrus and Chiller=Sans. They're the same as regular Papyrus and Sans, those are just their nicknames from the blog.  
> Villain Papyrus belongs to Banjo (https://bonetrcusle.tumblr.com) Shout-out to the Henchchat!  
> Also I REALLY WANTED Gaster to speak in WingDings but AO3 is a coward fool

The sun hit the cafe perfectly at this time of day, the light streaming in from the windows so bright and warm that they didn’t need to turn on the lights. Outside, snow had deafened the world, tucking everything under a downy comforter of frost until spring’s arrival. But inside, everything was toasty warm.

The overstuffed chairs by the fireplace were meant for customers. Sans knew that. But on a day like this, it would be a shame not to relax.

“BRRTHER…” came a displeased groan from the kitchen of the cafe.

“Yeah?”

“Y’RE LAZYYYY.”

He chuffed, “And?”

“GONN’ OPEN SNNN… Y’NEED- UH- COFFEEH.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll start on it.”

Papyrus nodded and turned back to what he’d been doing at the counter. Sans could hear the snapping crunch of apples being diced.

The disease did not leave without a fight. Papyrus had fought bravely, and was rewarded with a complete recovery, but it had left plenty of deep and lasting scars. The most formidable of these was found in his speech where he still slurred like a slobbering undead. But he was in speech therapy and he was doing great! His brother was so cool.

Sans sighed and let go of the moment’s contentment before hefting himself out of the chair. He could relax later, in bed. 

“What’s cookin’ bro?” Sans asked as he approached the countertop.  
Papyrus looked at him and jabbed one of his fingers at a stack of washed crabapples sitting neatly in a bowl, “AAAPPLE.” 

“I see.” Sans remarked with a nod. He grabbed one of the pieces of diced apple and popped it into his mouth. Papyrus gave a scowl and tapped the oven.

“NEED THHOSE. BAKING. MUFF’NS.” he grumbled, voice clipped short with annoyance.

“Muffins? Nice. Those’ll go great with the chai. Good choice.”  
Papyrus beamed. Sans beamed back. He fired up the coffee maker and poured the beans in.

This was always the best part. Sans could sit there for hours- under the pretense of working- watching the coffee slowly drip like water from a stalactite. After the coffeemaker whirred and grumbled to life, it began, a golden-brown drop forming, dangling precariously and then diving into the pool below.

And the aroma- oh, the smell that filled the cafe was divine! The earthy scent of the coffee wafted through the air on steam clouds, blending with the warm air to create a smell that could only be described as ‘cozy’. 

“BRTHERR!” Papyrus slurred. His urgentness startled Sans out of his daze. Sans drew his eyes up from the coffeemaker and-

Chiller woke up.

He was tangled in sheets. Covered in sweat. And the sound of clanging metal was bursting up from downstairs.

“BBRRRRTHRRRRR!!!”

Ah.

Chiller untangled himself from the sheets and, rubbing his skull, shuffled out of the room and down the stairs. When the occupant of the kitchen cabinet heard the stairs creaking as Chiller stepped down them, the banging stopped, which allowed Chiller to hear the sobs.

“Hey.” he said, touching the cool metal as if patting his brother on the shoulder. Inside, Trajan hiccuped.

“BRRRTHHHRR ‘M SRRYYY.” he slurred from behind the door, choking on his voice like it was tearing up his throat.

“It’s okay, bro, everything’s alright. I just fell asleep.”

“YYYH WERRRR GONE… LNNNGH TIME… WRRRIED…hhHHHNGRY.”

“Yeah, yeah, I bet you’re starving. Ham?”  
“HHHHHAM.”

A set of long, spindly fingers crept out from the slip of space under the door. Chiller grabbed two thick slices of ham. No sooner had he placed them into the long hand than the fingers snapped shut and slinked back into the cabinet.

Chiller sighed.

“WHhhT WERRR Y… DOIN…” Trajan mumbled between the smacking noises of him devouring his meal.

Chiller’s mouth twitched up and he leaned against the cabinet as if leaning on the shoulder of a friend. He might as well tell him. It could only entertain him.

“I had the best dream, bro. A cure came out, and you- well, everything was over. We went by our aliases- Sans and Papyrus, yeah?- and we opened up a cafe. Up in Snowdin, right next to where Grillby’s used to be. Remember that place?”

“GRRSSSE…”

“Eheh. Yep. We called it, uh, Ham Cafe-”

“HHHHA-AM!” Trajan roared in delight. The cabinet rocked a little.

“Yeah. We had a nice kitchen to the side- I made the coffee and you baked. I think you were making these little crabapple muffins. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“... WLD BAKE… NOT MUFF’NS…”

“Ah. Right. How could I be so silly? The great and terrible Trajan doesn’t deal in muffins.”

“EHEHEH… EHAHAHEH…”

His laugh was grating, a grunty, broken cackle. It sounded like he was choking on something.

The long spider hand reappeared, thrusting out from the door and wiggling it’s phalanges in a plea for more food. Chiller rested his hand on the palm of the spider hand. It tried to yank him under the door- then, it paused, and he felt the fingers lightly brush over his own and then close around him.

“BRRRTHRR.” Trajan groaned in recognition.

“That’s me.” Chiller said softly as he gripped Trajan’s hand. It was wet, but firm. Smelled like ham.

“Here. With you.”

They sat in silent solidarity for a few moments, holding hands through the door. Chiller looked around. An old, splintery, creaky house. Darkness permeating every corner like a thick black stain. Boarded up windows with shifting shapes outside that he dared not look at too long.

Outside, a cold wind howled as it barrelled it’s way around the house and down into the Underground beyond.

He didn’t know why he was upset.

The place in his dreams had never really existed. It was too good to be true, anyways. He should be happy that they were safe. 

Still, the memory of the place in his dreams rattled him. His soul ached every time he remembered another detail. How warm and kind the crackle of the fireplace sounded. The way the coffee dripped into the pot. The smiles and laughs he’d shared with his brother.

Chiller was drawn back into the present as he felt the long, spidery fingers squeeze his shaking hand like a vice.  
“D...N’T BBBE SAAAAAD…” 

Chiller sighed, rattling slightly as the tension left his body.  
“I know, bro, I’m alright. I’m feelin’...”

Fine. Say it. No reason to make him worry. Fine. He’s feeling fine.

But Chiller couldn’t bring himself to let the word into the air, and so there was silence.  
Trajan did not keep the silence going for long.

“B- B… BRooOO- BROTHER.”

Chiller perked up, lidded eyes snapping open. The perfect word cut through the heavy quiet, demanding attention.  
“Yeah?” he asked.

“TUH… JHNN… IiiiIIIII LHHHVE YOUUU…”

Chiller didn’t know what to say. He gave Trajan’s hand a light squeeze as he paused and looked for the words.

“Stars, bro, you’re killin’ me here.” he finally mumbled as he swept the inside of his arm across his face, drying up the wetness creeping onto his bones.

Something inside the cabinet banged, the fingers holding him flinched.

“nnNNNO!” Trajan wailed urgently. Chiller realized his mistake too late.

“Hey, no no no, I’m fine, I’m alright out here- stop trying to pull away, you’re gonna break my hand- everything’s fine, bro, everything’s alright-”

Once the damage control had palliated him sufficiently, and Trajan had settled down again, Chiller slumped against the cabinet and closed his eyes. The cold metal brushed against his skull. In the darkness of his closed vision, he could almost imagine the warm sunlight, could almost sense the phantom smell of espresso and muffins baking. So close, and yet wholly out of reach. 

“... things are gonna be fine, bro.” he assured. Somehow, he didn’t feel like it was Trajan he was reassuring. 

A few more quiet minutes passed before Chiller heard shuffling around inside of the cabinet.

“HHH… HHAAM…?” Trajan drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” 

Chiller let go of his brother’s hand and went to get more ham.

~~~

“HHHHAM.”

“Yes, Alphys did put ham in your ramen.”

Trajan was bouncing in delight. He kept almost going for his food, tempted by the huge chunks of ham and glistening noodles, but always managed to reign himself in and pull back at the last second. They were waiting for Alphys to return with the soda, so that they could all eat together. 

Chiller had no idea how much longer Trajan could stave off from devouring the food then and there, so he was grateful when Alphys came rushing back, soda bottle in hand.

She topped off their glasses with the pale yellow liquid and no sooner had she put her hands together and said “itadakimasu” than Trajan had all but faceplanted into his ramen.

“Slow down,” Chiller suggested. He took a sip of soda. It was all but flat, most of the carbonation having fizzled out, and by this point thickened and syrupy.  
Alphys had really outdone herself tonight, though. Floating in the ramen broth were not just instant noodles, but also chopped green onions, hard-boiled eggs, and some seaweed crackers she had managed to procure. Except in Trajan’s. Trajan’s toppings were limited to thick slices of ham.

For a few moments, the only sounds were of silverware scraping against ceramic. The gentle plop of dropped noodles. The clink of a glass being set down. Trajan’s delighted rumbles as he filled his stomach with his favorite food.

“How much, uh, medicine do we have left?” Alphys asked, glancing at Trajan briefly as she watched him brutalize a chunk of ham before swallowing it.

“Two doses.” Chiller assured. He didn’t blame her for being nervous. A small part of Chiller was nervous too. But a bigger part had confidence in his brother’s ability to check himself.

Alphys frowned, looking down at her noodles and stirring them about in thought,  
“... I don’t know if I can make more.” she admitted quietly.  
Chiller was about to react to that when Trajan broke his bowl.

The shattered pieces of china clattered to the floor. Alphys startled and shot into a far corner, tail between her legs. Chiller stuck his hands in the air. Trajan didn’t look at him. He clutched his head in his hands and groaned.

“Hey, buddy-” Chiller sidled up to Trajan and gently rested his hand on his ulna.  
Trajan ripped away from the contact, hissing like a feral cat as he backed against the wall. In the background Chiller saw Alphys scooting closer and closer to the staircase.

Trajan writhed on his feet. His hands roamed all over his face, clutching and groaning, knees buckling under some unseen weight. Then, suddenly, he went still, holding his pose perfectly, as though someone had pressed the pause button on him.

They stood like that, the three of them, frozen in time. Watching. Waiting.

The door opened, and Doctor Gaster strode in, as nonchalant as if this were his own living room.  
“DRAT. SORRY,” he murmured, fiddling with something in his hands, “THE CONNECTION IS TERRIBLE. IT DOESN’T GO THROUGH WALLS. I’LL NEED TO FIX THAT.” 

And then, suddenly, Trajan snapped his head up and looked at Chiller. And growled. 

It was Chiller’s turn to freeze. 

“... wh… what’s-” a choked, nervous laugh crept from Chiller’s throat, “Doc. What’s goin’ on here?” 

“I DIDN’T APPRECIATE YOU BURNING MY HOUSE. AND STEALING MY WEAPON.” the Doctor shrugged, “THIS PLACE WILL DO FOR A NEW LAB. THANK YOU FOR FINDING IT FOR ME. UNFORTUNATELY, YOU CAN’T STAY HERE EITHER.” 

Chiller’s mind was blank. He saw Trajan advancing, but his brain didn’t catch up to his eyes until there were big, goopy hands wrapping around his arms as the immensely tall skeleton loomed over him. He found himself staring Trajan in the face. Trajan’s gaze was empty, nothing at all going on behind it. Nothing, until Chiller saw, from the corner of his tunnel vision, the Doctor fiddle with the remote in his hands and a spark went through Trajan’s brain. He grumbled like a revving engine and lifted Chiller up off the ground like a ragdoll. His face twitched into something like unbridled rage, eyes narrowing in a scowl. 

Chiller could hardly sputter a word. He knew Trajan could rip him in half like he was made of wet tissue paper or crush him like a soda can. All the Doctor had to do was push a button and he’d be dust. He was, without a doubt, about to die at his brother’s hand. 

“Bro…” was all he could say, a barely audible whisper. 

Trajan twitched. 

With no more announcement than a roar, Chiller was flying through the air. He landed, with a soft ‘thud’, on the living room couch. 

The respite didn’t last long. The Doctor huffed in annoyance and pressed a button. Trajan jolted, as if electricity was running through him, and began advancing on Chiller once more. 

The landing had knocked Chiller’s senses back into him, and he turned to the Doctor. Who, last he had seen, was lying under a bookshelf, infected, about to die. The Doctor met his gaze, and gave him a questioning smirk. 

“You’re s’posed to be dead.” was all Chiller could say, gawking like an idiot. Spidery hands grabbed for him again and Chiller bolted, ducking between Trajan’s legs. Trajan grunted and swivelled around to grab at him, but his fists closed around empty air as Chiller teleported to the top of the stairs. He quickly realized that this was a horrible move because he’d just cornered himself. 

The Doctor rolled his eyes, pressing a button and making Trajan move like a puppet once more, “DID YOU REALLY THINK I DIED? THAT BOOKSHELF WEIGHED NOTHING. AND OF COURSE I KNEW I WAS INFECTED, WHY DO YOU THINK I WAS RACING TO MAKE THE CURE? YOU DESTROYED MOST OF IT WITH YOUR ARSON, YOU FOOL, BUT I MANAGED TO SAVE ENOUGH FOR ME AND MY WEAPON. I DO LIKE WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO HIM THOUGH. I MIGHT KEEP HIM THAT WAY.” 

Trajan reached the staircase. He looked up and his gaze locked onto Chiller, staring intently at him. There was eerie silence as Trajan began to stomp his way up the stairs, slowly, like a cat coming after a mouse. 

“Bro- Traj- Trajan, bro-” Chiller sputtered desperately, backing up against the wall as Trajan stepped onto the last stair. This time, Trajan only acknowledged the words with a menacing growl. 

“Bro- listen, bro, Trajan, this isn’t you- snap out of it-” 

It wasn’t working. A small part of Chiller knew that. But the bigger part was pleading with his brother in a bid to save his own life, even as Trajan began to hold him up again. 

Downstairs, the Doctor was sneering. 

“SO LONG. IT’S BEEN FUN. WELL. NO. IT HASN’T. YOU WERE ALWAYS A WASTE OF-” 

PEW! 

A bolt of blue light shot out from the kitchen and pierced the air. The Doctor was struck. He puffed into dust just as Trajan dropped Chiller. 

The huge gauntlet looked comical on Alphys’s short arm, but she managed to maintain an air of badassery as she stepped out of the kitchen, examined the dust pile, and gave Chiller a beaming thumbs-up. 

Chiller laughed. For once, the smile covering his face was genuine. “Bro!” he started to stand up, “Trajan, we did it, he’s-” 

But Trajan wasn’t looking at him. Trajan had sat down hard on the floor. He crossed his legs and wound those strong arms around himself, shaking and twitching. 

“... bro?” 

Trajan turned his gaze to Chiller. His eye sockets were no longer empty. They were full of emotions. Sadness. Hurt. Fear. 

“It’s alright now, bro.” Chiller said, arms out. He patted his brother on the head, “He’s gone for good now. We got him. He’s not gonna bother us anymore.” 

Trajan’s mumbles were sharply interrupted by hitched breaths as he stumbled his way through his next sentence, 

“Yyyh Dd- TRRJNNN- NNn- ‘LMOSTTT- HHHHURT Y-” 

Oh. Right. 

“Shh, bro, it’s fine-” Infection be damned, Chiller wrapped his arms around his brother, “- it’s alright, bro. Everything’s okay. We’re fine now. We’re fine now.” Trajan sobbed. Chiller tightened his grip. 

“Hey, hey…” he soothed, and then sighed, “... love you bro.” 

Trajan absolutely wailed and threw his arms around Chiller, squeezing him as tight as he could. Chiller squeezed back, which made Trajan squeeze harder, which made Chiller feel like his ribcage was about to be crushed, but he squeezed harder still, and- 

“Chiller!” 

Alphys bustled her way up the stairs and down the hall to meet them, a spring in her step. The gauntlet was tucked under her arm, but she held her other hand up in a fist. As she stepped into the upstairs and met Chiller’s gaze, she grinned widely and hurried over even faster. 

“What is it?” Chiller asked. Alphys opened her mouth to say something but in the end could only make an excited squeak. She bounced up and down a little, and finally, opened her hand and displayed the contents. 

The bottle was about as big as a bottle of food coloring. Inside, a pearly green liquid sloshed as it rolled in her opened palm, but she was careful not to drop it. 

Chiller had no idea what it was. And yet, he knew. After staring at the vial dumbly for a few seconds, he lit up like a match. “That’s-” 

“I think so.” Alphys nodded, bubbling with excitement. 

She didn’t need to “think” so. They both knew that she was right. 

~~~ 

“Nah, nah, a bit to the left… nope, that’s right- there we go- aaand… THERE!” 

“A BIT TO THE LEFT, HhhheE SAYS-” Papyrus mumbled, stewingly, “MY SIGN PLACING ISN’T GOOD EeeENOUGH, HE SA-AYS.” 

Undyne could only force out a snort. Anyone could tell from Papyrus’s face that he wasn’t actually upset. 

Once the screws were bolted into their holes, Undyne and Papyrus backed up, admiring their work. Passerby likewise stopped to read over the name of the new store that had settled into Snowdin proper, perfectly placed between the Librarby and the owner’s homes- “HAM CAFE”. 

The door came open and out walked Alphys, bundled head to toe in very thick winter gear. Concern flickered across Undyne’s face, but Alphys gave her a smile, “I’m fine, I won’t freeze up and die- wow,” she said, turning to admire their work, “... great job, guys. Might be a bit far to the left, though.” 

“TH-HANK YOU!” Papyrus cried. Undyne rolled her eye- she opened her mouth to comment, but shut it again as she remembered herself. She’d made as full a recovery as the rest of the Underground, but, like the others, her voice needed some work, full of stutters and slurs. It made a dent in her otherwise overbearing self-confidence that Papyrus was more than pleased about, but never said anything towards the matter. Even though he definitely had beef with Undyne, the Captain of the Royal Guard that was such a corrupt institution in his eyes- and had also beat him up and put him in jail- he owed her one. When she’d come back from the undead she’d been spitting mad at the notion of letting the Underground’s public enemy number one escape her grasp, but, when tempted with monsterkind’s salvation she had begrudgingly agreed to ensure that all evidence of Trajan’s crimes disappeared before the Royal Guard’s headquarters had come back online. 

They had found an odd, competing kinship in each other after the dust had settled- they were both in recuperation therapy, and had somehow decided it was a race to see who could unzombify themself the fastest. Right now Papyrus was winning with his mastery of speech, but Alphys assured Sans that Undyne wasn’t far behind, staying up into the late night hours reciting words quietly to herself. 

Alphys tilted her head and grabbed Undyne’s hand, leaning against her. Undyne smirked. 

“... LET’S hhHEAD BACK INSIDE. I’M EAGER TO “GEeetT COOKIN’”, AS THEY SAY.” 

The odd slur made a laugh run through the group. And, with that, the four headed back inside.


End file.
